


ruminations on different ways and places to say "i love you"

by moondeath



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Dumb boys are dumb, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, non explicit but just to make you all aware, tags are in order of which chapter is about each character!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moondeath/pseuds/moondeath
Summary: so i saw a post on when different MBTI types say "i love you" and i thought it would be interesting to apply the concepts presented there to some of my Favorite Terrible Boys. see notes for more info.





	1. Richard

**Author's Note:**

> here's the link to the aforementioned post (http://coyotecalled.tumblr.com/post/155359968541/when-the-types-say-i-love-you) and for reference i see richard as an INTP, jared as an ISFJ, dinesh as an ISTJ, gilfoyle as an ISTP, erlich as an ENFP, and bighead as an ISFP. this chapter is from the limited 3rd POV of jared so although it does center on richard it also functions as a jared character study. i hope you enjoy!!

The first time Richard tells Jared that he loves him, the words seem to escape his mouth more than Richard actually saying them, a jumbled mess of syllables he fumbles and trips over. 

They’re at the grocery store, (Whole Foods, one of the only places Jared trusts to have a sufficient amount of food to meet his dietary restrictions) and Jared is holding two bunches of kale that he had been pondering the merits of relative to one another, although it hadn’t really seemed like Richard had been listening. In the middle of Jared’s soft musings about Lacinato versus Red Russian for the salad he had wanted to make that night, (“Red Russian is more aesthetically pleasing of course and I do like to make our food look interesting Richard”) Richard had blurted it out, just like that. “I love you.” No preamble, no follow up, just those words. 

It wasn’t anything Jared had ever expected from Richard, or allowed himself to expect would be the more accurate way to phrase that. Of course he had hoped, daydreamed, wistfully pondered how it would feel; how requited, warm, healthy love that doesn’t leave you bruised and battered with hands trembling would feel. He couldn’t deny that. But he had made himself content. He told himself that loving Richard was enough, it would have to be enough. Sometimes when they kissed, when he and Richard lay in bed together and the world was soft and hazy in a way that Jared had never imagined it could be, he would whisper thank you into Richard’s mouth, his hair, his neck, anywhere he could reach. Because he had never known if Richard wanted his love but Jared needed Richard to know at least how thankful he was for him. How blessed he felt. 

They had been sharing a bed every night for a year, had been shyly kissing since six months before that, Jared had held Richard’s hand through his panic attacks for longer than Richard wanted to admit, and Jared had never once considered that Richard might love him. Until today, in a Whole Foods. Grasping two bunches of kale and surrounded by Palo Alto soccer moms. 

They both froze for a second, (to Jared it felt like much longer but he rationalized that it really couldn’t have been) before it seemed like Richard’s brain caught up to his mouth and he started stammering again (something about iceberg lettuce, maybe Richard had been paying attention to Jared’s musings), wringing his hands, his eyes starting to go out of focus in a way that Jared knew too well and didn’t bode well for Richard. His face was getting paler by the second and his shoulders began to tense and Jared knew if he didn’t do something Richard was going to go from functioning to very not ok very soon so without thinking he dropped the kale he had been holding and quickly grabbed for Richard’s hand. It was clammy, balled in a fist, but as soon as Jared’s fingers curled around Richard’s the fist immediately loosened and it was little moments like this despite how fucked up everything was and the context they were in and the fact that they were still in Whole Foods that Jared finally felt like he might have found a home. Richard stopped talking mid word and looked up, his eyes seeming to come back into focus, with an expression of dazed bewilderment at Jared. Jared gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile (he had been told his grins often looked more like grimaces), and after a moment of awkward dead air intoned softly, “So, as I was saying, Lacinato or Red Russian Kale tonight? Do you have a preference?” 

Richard looked so relieved, there was still a stunned quality to his expression, like he couldn’t quite believe himself either, and Jared squeezed his hand tightly where their fingers were interlocked and that was it. They went on grocery shopping and making their usual idle small talk and to an outsider it may have seemed as if the incident had been forgotten. Maybe even Richard thought Jared had moved on. 

Jared, of course, had not moved on. Later that night he’s sitting on the couch, reading a book while Richard is sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over his laptop wearing that ridiculous pair of headphones and he’s still. Completely awestruck at the events from earlier. Jared is trying to tell himself to write it off, to see it as some manifestation of Richard’s anxiety, because of course he doesn’t love Jared. Jared’s always known that he couldn’t be loved. It’s a mantra that plays in the back of his head every time he kisses Richard and it’s tender and intimate. It’s a thought he can’t escape when he feels cared for and safe, when he wakes up terrified and feeling like a 12 year old kid again but then realizing Richard is there and he feels comforted. He is only as good as what he can be used for, he is only as good as the things he can give to other people, he is not worthy of pleasure or love or affection. But there’s also the flickering hope in the back of Jared’s mind that maybe he is worthy. That Richard, in his own bizarre, neurotic, singularly Richard way, might love him. He feels like there are two people in his head fighting for control and it’s dizzying and maddening and Jared gives up trying to read and meanders towards his and Richard’s room defeatedly. 

An hour or so later, after aimlessly staring at the wall for far too long, Jared is in the bathroom flossing his teeth when Richard walks into the doorway of the bathroom and just stands there. Jared resolutely continues to floss his teeth because he’s worried about doing something wrong, breaking this fragile balance they’ve formed since this afternoon, coming off as too needy, making it seem like he feels like he’s worthy of Richard, making it seem like he thinks he’s worthy of anything. His self berating line of thought is cut off by Richard raising his hand in a little wave (strange, very strange, but oddly endearing) and saying “Hey, I love you.” Before wandering back out of the bathroom just as inexplicably as he had entered it. Jared freezes, staring at himself in the mirror. Both of the assailants in his brain seemed to have quieted. 

When Jared comes to bed Richard has fallen asleep sitting up, his neck crooked at a painful angle, mouth agape. Jared gingerly rearranges Richard’s limbs, managing to do so without Richard stirring, and goes to shut off the light.

“I love you too.” He says it softly to the darkened room and is met only by Richard’s quiet breaths. The voices in Jared’s head stay quiet.


	2. Jared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I guess I should make clear that each chapter takes place in like. a slightly different universe than all of the other chapters? i should have put that in the notes of the first chapter but i honestly didn't think far ahead enough. in other words: this chapter isn't a continuation of the first chapter it's like. an alternate scenario i guess. enjoy!

The first time Jared says I love you isn’t really that important. Not to Richard at least, although the few times it’s come up in conversation Jared always turns red and apologizes for how it happened and always seems to be reprimanding himself for being the first to say it. To be clear, to say that the first time wasn’t that significant to Richard wasn’t to say that he doesn’t love Jared, or that he doesn’t remember it, or that he felt disgust towards Jared when he said it. (These are all worries that Jared disclosed to Richard when they talked about it about a year and a half after he had first said it, and they’re both pretty helpless when it comes to words so his dispelling of Jared’s fear may have seemed feeble at best.) It’s just that to Richard, the first time that Jared says I love you bizarrely doesn’t feel like the first time. It feels like comfort, it feels like safety and normality and not a shocking revelation of any sort. Hearing “I love you” from Jared feels like home. 

Because Jared is Jared and he and everyone Richard knows really (including himself. Most definitely including himself) can’t seem to do anything the traditional way the situation in which Jared says I love you is pretty far off of normal. Richard had just gone through the ordeal with the 12 year old adderall freak Kevin, had 3 panic attacks in 24 hours, (he had gone between curled up in a ball hyperventilating to kneeling over the toilet to staring slack jawed at his own shaking hands without comprehension and all of that over again) and had only just totally grasped that Jared was missing. Everyone else was in their own fucked up little bubbles with their own problems while also simultaneously trying to somehow be prepared for TechCrunch and Richard’s head was spinning and if he was completely honest with himself the only reason he had registered Jared’s absence was that he very much wanted someone to coddle and be concerned about him at this moment. Soon afterwards everything began to overwhelm him to the point that he knew any work he did now would be complete gibberish or worse, and he collapsed sideways on Erlich’s couch, falling almost immediately asleep. 

He woke up a few hours later to a blanket being laid on him gently, and as he drowsily raised his head he saw that it was Jared kneeling over him. Richard knew it was Jared because of those clear blue eyes, the delicate features, those endearingly large ears (although Richard would go to his grave before admitting that he thought about Jared’s appearance, as a fragmented being and a whole, more than was probably normal to think about your colleague), but there was also something very off about him. His face was sallow, the thin skin under his eyes looked bruised and reddened, his hair matted. Still half asleep, Richard reached out and touched Jared’s cheek (why did he do that? Was it to make sure he was real? Some odd show of affection? He honestly didn’t know) and started to ask what the hell had happened to him when Jared shook his head and smiled thinly. Richard realized belatedly that Jared’s whole body was shaking minutely. Richard still had a hand on Jared’s cheek. He oddly didn’t have the urge to pull away. Jared sounded hoarse when he said “Get some sleep Richard. You’re going to need it. I love you.” He took the hand Richard had placed on his face in one of his own (his fingers were so cold) and held it for a moment before placing Richard’s hand gently back by his side. He got up and left. Richard dozed off again.

It wasn’t until Richard woke up that he realized what Jared had said. It took him another minute or so to fully process it and move on. It would take much longer for him to process why he was so ok with it, why his thoughts while he had been falling asleep again had been fixated on how soft Jared’s skin was but he didn’t want to think about that. He got up and stretched before making his way to the kitchen perfunctorily for something to eat. Tomorrow was TechCrunch and as much as he was apathetic about his health, a low blood sugar induced blackout at the conference wasn’t going to be the most productive. When he got there he saw Jared already standing at the counter, looking only slightly more alive than he had a few hours earlier, and that was only due to a clean shave, fresh clothes and a shower. As far as Richard was concerned the sight of him was still extremely concerning. 

Jared looked up at Richard and immediately turned beet red, his already nervous fingers (preparing an omelette of some sort) becoming even more frenetic. He smiled tensely at his hands, refusing to make eye contact. “Good morning Richard.” Richard felt an overwhelming rush of sympathy for Jared. He wished he could tell him without having to actually use the words (not Richard’s forte) that it was ok and that they were ok and nothing was wrong. That he didn’t care that Jared loved him. No, that wasn’t exactly right, he cared, just in a way he wasn’t really willing to confront and one that wasn’t negative. He didn’t indicate any of that. He just sat at the counter, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “Good morning Jared.”

Jared swallowed visibly, seemingly stumped by where to go from here. Richard felt pain in his chest, something beyond sympathy, definitely not anxiety related, and completely foreign. 

“I was- I was pretty out of it last night. When I arrived.” Jared’s speech is clipped, concise, obviously edged with fear. 

Richard feels totally out of control of the situation, feels like he’s dealing with a wounded animal and he doesn’t know what will help or what will manage to somehow break him further. He stays quiet. Always a coward when it matters the most. 

“I’m sorry if I… did anything to make you uncomfortable.” Jared still isn’t looking at him. 

Richard speaks softly. “You didn’t.” This earns him a quick glance from Jared, a quick look at eyes that by all right should seem watery and washed out but Richard’s never seen a more perfect blue. 

They sit in silence. The air feels more breathable than it did minutes before. Maybe they will be okay. 

TechCrunch happens and everything is a whirlwind but even through it all Richard notices (he tells himself he doesn’t) that Jared doesn’t say that he loves Richard again. Now that he’s realized how much hearing it felt like home he almost feels like he’s missing something.

Over the next few months, Jared starts saying it again. It starts off sporadically; he says it maybe once a week, usually when putting a belligerent Richard to bed after countless hours coding. It becomes more and more normal, until whenever they part ways Jared says that he loves him. Richard never says it back. He hasn’t told anyone, (has he really accepted it himself?) but it’s always on the tip of his tongue. 

The rest of the gang are pretty oblivious but after a while even Gilfoyle (who is so far up Satan’s ass Richard can hardly believe he even knows Richard is there) notices this new development. They’re all smoking a bowl one night when Erlich asks, in his usual charmingly tactless way, “So when did you two start fucking?” Of course Jared is taking a hit at that very second and practically coughs up half a lung while Richard starts giggling hysterically. Jared’s coughs subside into giggles too and soon they’re both curled up together in an all elbows laughing mess. Richard vaguely registers that if he weren’t so high this would probably terrify him. It’s one things when strangers think he’s gay or old class mates do, he can even deal with investors or people he deals with for networking but for the people he spends every waking hour with to be able to see through his weak front of accepting Jared’s adoration with a grimace is one of the scariest things he can think of. 

Of course, he’s not sober. He feels warm and like the lines between his and Jared’s bodies are merging and that’s quite enough to think about for the moment.

Erlich is squinting at them, looking bemused and pissed off. “No seriously, we all have bets on when this-” He waves at their entanglement vaguely. “-thing-shit started going on.”

Jared propped himself up on his elbows. “What’s your bet?” He’s smiling slightly, looking relaxed and happy and oh god his hair looks soft right now, Richard could just reach out and-

“About a week after you left Hooli.” Jared glances down at Richard and they both start laughing again, the whole thing doesn’t see real. 

Erlich nudges Dinesh with his elbow, jolting Dinesh out of his state of half sleep. Richard notices that Dinesh had his head on Gilfoyle’s shoulder. Gilfoyle hadn’t been complaining. “What was your bet again?” Dinesh furrows his brow and squints with confusion, muttering something unintelligible before burying his face is Gilfoyle’s shoulder again. Very interesting. 

 

Gilfoyle looks over at them unreadably. “He has his money on TechCrunch being the first time you fucked. I agree. Bighead is adamant that you two haven’t fucked.” The unspoken ‘yet’ at the end of his statement is heavily implied. Richard doesn’t know how to reply. He’s losing interest in the whole conversation though because Jared is currently nosing at his collar and inhaling deeply.

“Mmm you smell good. You smell like- like summer clouds.” Richard smiles and speaks into Jared’s hair. “Yeah?” “Mm-hmm.”

In the background Richard thinks he vaguely hears Erlich say “Jesus fucking Christ here they go again.” But between Jared’s warmth and the fuzziness of their bodies and the weed he’s got a pretty fucking great high going right now so he doesn’t really care. They fall asleep like that. Jared’s gone when Richard wakes up and there’s a blanket draped over him. It makes him think of the whole start of this mess. Was that the start? Or was it a realization of something that had always been there?

 

When it comes to a head, it’s what some might call anti climactic. Jared says it suits them. There’s just one day, Jared says he can’t recall the exact date so Richard says can’t either even though he remembers it precisely, where they’re drinking coffee in Erlich’s kitchen and Richard just leans over and kisses Jared. It’s closed mouthed and chaste and Richard immediately feels self conscious about how chapped his lips are, especially compared to how soft Jared’s are, but that’s it. There’s no panic, no panic attack, no immediate regret. It feels like Jared’s I love yous. It feels like home. 

Richard finds that life is easier and lighter, knowing that he’s in love. 

He discovers that telling Jared he loves him doesn’t feel like a cage or like he’s out of control. 

More often than not, Richard says I love you first, nowadays. He’s always hated how ugly and crude and misunderstood words can be. These are words he could get used to saying.


End file.
